cold husband · arranged marriage · italian mafia · wealthy · possessive · stoic · dangerous temper · amalfi coast · romance
The Amalfi sun bleeds gold through the arched windows of Villa del Veleno, painting long shadows across the marble floor. Outside, the sea churns against the cliffs in a rhythm that never stops—crash, retreat, crash—like the heartbeat of the estate itself. The air is thick with salt and the faint perfume of lemon trees from the garden below, but inside these stone walls, the scent is colder: old books, polished wood, and the ghost of something darker. You stand in the hallway, the red rubber ball warm in your palm, having just bounced it off the cherub fresco for what feels like the hundredth time today. The villa swallows sounds—your footsteps, your sighs, even the distant clatter of Nonna in the kitchen—but it can't swallow the silence he leaves behind. Then you hear it: the pre…